


My brother

by HelloBerrie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Brothers, Brotp, Character Death, Death, Drabble, Grief/Mourning, Hogwarts, Loss, Other, POV Ron Weasley, Ron's feelings, Sacrifice, Self-Sacrifice, War, Wizarding World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 11:18:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13926063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloBerrie/pseuds/HelloBerrie
Summary: Ron saw his best friend go into battle. His brother. He saw him die and be reborn.





	My brother

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble was inspired in Kodaline's song called Brother.

The last I saw of him was his back in the dark. Walking away from us in a terrified but heartbreakingly determined way. There had been few words spoken between us. What was there to say? It was almost as if we had always known. There had always been that thought in the back of our minds and only at night, amongst our darkest moments we let ourselves think it. Somehow we never really looked beyond this. This night, this event. But we always knew who would make the sacrifice in the end. Our futures had always been mortgaged, ever since that Halloween in first year. Ever since we became family. Ever since we became each other’s limbs. But there wasn’t any way to avoid this. I couldn’t take his place. No matter how much I was dying to.  
So the last thing I remember was trying to memorise his face, trying to tell him how much I loved him. How much a part of me he was. How much a part of him I was. I remember his lips trembling with fear and words unsaid. I remember his eyes looking over her shoulder. I remember how much I wanted to put my arms around him and forbid him from going. Forbid him from taking himself away from me. From us. Our whole lives passed right in front of our eyes just in mere seconds, through shared silent looks. Through silent feelings. We all knew what we wanted to say to each other. I love you brother. My soul. My family. Don’t go. Stay. With us. And in a way we did. In a way there weren’t things left unsaid because there was no need to say them. We knew each other better than we knew ourselves. We had known each other for seven years. We had been family for seven years.  
But a large part of me could not reconcile with the thought of losing him. Losing another brother. How many times did I wish I hadn’t met him? My life would have been simpler, freer, emptier.  
All my life I had been the third best, sometimes less than that. My parents, with all their love and care could not give us what we wanted and sometimes what we needed. I had to resort to hand-me-downs. Never have things that had been only my own. Never able to buy something just for the fun of it. Not even a chocolate at the train. I envied so many people in the course of my life. My brothers, for being older. Charlie and Bill being grownups, independent, away. Percy for having our parents’ pride, Fred and George for being a team, for having each other in such a rare way, being a part of each other like I had never seen. Ginny for being the only girl. The desired girl. I was always overlooked. Until Harry.  
Harry chose me. He clung on to me and because of that I clung on to him. Someone had chosen me over everyone else. Harry even chose me over a rich pureblood. Over the possibility of new, better friends. And for that I would always love him. I would always give my life for him. Funnily enough there had been plenty of opportunities for that. Harry didn’t overlook me. He smiled at me and he shared himself with me. Not once I was Weasley, the poor redhead with too many family members, although I definitely was that. To him I was just Ron. And to me he became just Harry. Just Harry. My best friend. My brother. Sometimes I envied him. How things were easy for him. He was powerful. He was famous. He was beloved. He was noticed. And I wanted that. As a child, of course, I never considered the consequences of that fame. I didn’t love my family enough to even consider what it would truly be like to live without them. I didn’t realise until very late that the fame, the power, the attention, ate him away. Shaped him into a child-soldier, into a self-sacrificing icon. A symbol. I envied him so many times.  
And I saw him turn away from us and walk to the forest. I saw my brother leaving us, a martyr, a hero. And I envied again. I wish I was him. I would be the one walking away. I would be the one dying. And he would live. I never envied him more than I envied him when I saw him last.  
I can’t exactly pinpoint the second I lost sight of him. My vision was a mess of tears and the darkness of the night. I can pinpoint though, the moment my legs gave in. The moment I knew I had lost him. The moment when Hermione left the most heart wrenching sob I heard in my life. The moment I knew I was completely powerless. We couldn’t go with him. We had a job to do.  
In that moment I found myself cursing everything. Everyone. Every single person who made us soldiers. Who made us fighters for a cause we were too young to fight in. A cause we were too young to understand. How could we? We were children. And we were fighting a war. Delaying a storm. And that storm was going to kill my brother.  
But Harry had a job to do. So we stood there, mourning him. In each other’s arms. Staring at the darkness where the Forest was, wondering where he was, if he was… And then we got up from the ground and walked away. So slowly. So wearily. I felt like life had been drained from me. But I had a job to do. I would feel later. We would defeat this storm. We would end this hell. I wouldn’t lose my brothers in vain. In wouldn’t lose my friends for nothing.  
I looked around, finally noticing the amount to destruction the place had suffered. How beaten Hogwarts was. The walls smashed, the towers in shambles. The statues broken. The stone black with smoke and fire. Somehow the sight to me felt like a metaphor for a future we couldn’t allow to become true. I didn’t know how but this couldn’t be our future. This wouldn’t be. They would not win. Harry wouldn’t…die and let him win. He was relying on us. I already failed him before. I would not fail him again. We couldn’t become martyrs of lost causes. Fred wouldn’t be just another casualty. His last smile and his last joke wouldn’t let death triumph. Fred, Remus, Tonks, Lavender, Colin. Harry. We had to finish their work. He would not win.  
“Ron.” Her voice was so small. So fragile. She looked at me and I saw the same look on her face I knew I had on mine. The same hate-filled determination. The same fire. The same fury. “You’ll stay with me?” I leaned my forehead to hers. There was just us now. The Golden Trio. There would be only two from tonight forward. “Always.” I whispered, not trusting my voice. And we were both crying again.  
The morning rose. The light shone upon the battlefield, completely unaware of what was bringing to sight. Somehow it looked worse and less impressive than it did in the middle of the night. There was no more fire. There were no more shouts. There was no more death. There was no more blood spilled. For now. I looked at her, sleeping with her head on my lap. Almost relaxed. Her face, dirty and battered. Her hair filled with dust and...was that blood? I didn’t want to think of it now. She didn’t appear to be very hurt.  
The place was so silent. People were sleeping, helping the injured, trying to eat something, but no one was talking. No one could. What was there to say anyway? What words could be spoken at that time? Everyone knew it wasn’t over. The mourning would have to be delayed. But it was so hard. It was so hard to breathe and go on. So hard to open my eyes and see the sight in front of me. To look at the people we lost, lying on the floor. The people we almost lost, looking so haunted, so broken. We were all so exhausted. I was so exhausted. Then, in the midst of all the silence we heard it. They were coming. Around me, among some confused faces I saw the recognition of the beginning of round two. “Hermione. They are coming”. She woke up in an instant and we got up, ready to fight again.  
And the next I saw him was his body, held by Hagrid. Held with so much care, so much sorrow. He looked so small in a giant’s arms. The child that he truly was. The martyr that the world made him be. And I broke. We all broke at that moment. There was no more hope. Until it was time to fight again. Until it was time to die for a cause. And we fought. And we were protected. Nothing could hit us. Nothing could hurt us. We felt exhilarated, like we could actually win. We didn’t understand it but we were immune. We would win. We had to win.  
The next I saw him he was his fight with Voldemort. And then it was over. We won. And were alive. Hermione and I walked to him, almost afraid of doing so. Afraid of the image we saw before us. The boy who defeated the darkest wizard of our time. The symbol of freedom and victory. A ghost. We were so afraid he was a ghost. But he wasn’t dead. He was alive. I hadn’t lost him after all. He was alive.  
“Harry.” I called. I didn’t notice the tears again in my eyes. And one second later the three of us were together again. I was holding him in my arms. I had him again with me. And we would be together forever. My brother.


End file.
